


From Limbo

by Astray



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Annie POV, Annie-Centric, Gen, potential Mitchell/Annie if you squint, sort of stream of consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astray/pseuds/Astray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie reflects on her condition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Limbo

**Author's Note:**

> This is short, and really, I don't mean much by it. But I felt like I'd try to write something for Annie, because she really gets my feels in a mess.

Some would say they want to be invisible. To sneak on people. To do everything they are not allowed to. Or pretty much anything. She certainly said something like this before. Like all children do. It is a burden – because no one sees, no one listens and when they do, there is no telling for how long. Things are temporary, she learned the hard way. Some things don't change and the sofa will still be a run down, leather thing in the middle of the living-room.   
Some thinks ghosts are white and chained up. She's invisible and tied to invisible chains. She cannot see them, she can only feel them. Weighing on her mind everytime she passes the front door.   
Some would say they don't want to leave this world after death. The familiarity is compelling. And she once thought that she did not want to see the door open. Especially not when she was nearly dragged through two of these. She did not know if she wanted to leave – the boys are useless on their own. They need her. Perhaps not as she needs them. Both of them idiots.   
Had she been alive, she would never have met them. She would not have talked to them anyway. Probably not. Probably casting them off as 'charming-must-runs-through-girls' and 'nerdy-and-awkward-in-a-cute-way'. Probabilities have no place in her life anymore. Unlife, whatever it was. Postmortem condition. And she adored them. Loathe to leave. Loathe to go and leave them, because she knew that some day, they will move on. Some day, they will forget her. And she made them promise. She made _him_ promise.   
Deep down she knew – that he will never let her go without a fight, and that he will go after her. It was sad that she had not met him before she died...


End file.
